Hot Water
by Scared Swan
Summary: Bellamy finds something in the forest and shows Clarke first. Smut ensues.


**Hello! I've been working on this for quite some time now, and yesterday in the bus back from London, I finally finished it! I hope you'll like it!  
**

**This is definitely _smut_ so it's rated M.**

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Clarke was tending to one of the injured hunters when he came in. She could feel it the moment he entered. The air was immediately filled with a kind of tension that made it hard to breathe. How he did that was a mystery, because she didn't see him enter, it could be anyone, but she'd recognize those footfalls anywhere.

"Clarke," he began, and then nothing. Clarke tied off the bandage and nodded at Harper that she was good. Harper left quickly. Maybe she felt the tension as well. Clarke rose and turned to face him. He was standing in the middle of the ship, looking like a God damn God with those shoulders and those arms and just _ugh_. She couldn't let herself be distracted by his exterior (but God, he was sinful), and she worked damn hard to not be.

"What can I do for you, Bellamy?" she said tentatively, wiping her bloody hands on a rag.

He bit his lip as he looked at her, his eyes wandering lazily up and down her body, making her uncomfortable in her own skin (bastard). Then he grinned and jerked his head to outside the dropship. "Come on." he said. "I found something you have to see." Clarke had learned not to trust that grin. It meant he was up to something, and experience had taught her that that didn't always work out well. She squinted at him, suspicious of his intentions, and he huffed out a laugh. "Come on, Princess. Trust me for once." He held out his hand in invitation, and Clarke made her decision.

"Fine." she said, walking straight past his outstretched hand, exiting the dropship. She heard his amused chuckle behind her before his warm hand was pressing against her lower back.

"Come, this way." he whispered in her ear, making her jump. His cocky grin flashed in the corner of her eyes and she rolled them heavily. Always the smug bastard. Grumbling under her breath, she followed him while he put his bag over his shoulders, leaving the dropship behind them quickly.

"Bellamy, where are we going?" she asked after ten minutes of hiking uphill.

"Just...trust me." he said, helping her across a massive fallen tree. His smile said the exact same thing, and for some reason, she did. She followed him without another complaint. It was getting hotter, more humid up here, and she shrugged out of her jacket. Bellamy chuckled. "Well, don't stop on my account." he said teasingly, and she looked up to snap at him. _Oh God._ She gasped, her breath catching in her throat, her feet tripping over themselves at the sight before her.

He had taken off his God damn shirt.

He laughed out loud, the muscles in his stomach rippling as he did (_God damn it_). "See something you like, Princess?"

"Shut up." she murmured, pushing past him to hide her blush.

He laughed again, and she had to squeeze her eyes shut to drown out the rippling muscles from her mind's eye. "How far is it, anyway?" she asked, to distract both of them.

He moved up close behind her, making her tense up, his body heat radiating off of him. "You see those bushes up there?" he whispered in her ear, and she shivered. She didn't pull away, however. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction. She simply nodded. "Well, it's just through there." He brushed her shoulder as he moved away and the contact left her skin tingling. _God_, this idiot was making her feel things she shouldn't.

She followed him through the foliage, trying (and failing) to keep her eyes off his back (he shouldn't be allowed to walk around shirtless, it was very distracting). "Here we are, Princess." Bellamy said with a grin, crossing his arms over his chest.

Clarke looked up and her step faltered again. They had suddenly cleared the woods and were now standing on a rock formation, and there were large, steaming puddles of water as far as the eye could see. "Wow. Is this...?"

"A hot water source." Bellamy said with a happy grin. "I tested the water, the way you taught us, with the leaves and stuff. It's clean. My guess is, there's a vein running deep beneath the surface, carrying hot air upwards and into all these pools - for lack of a better word. You should try it, it's a real nice temperature."

Clarke knelt down next to the closest source, carefully sticking her finger in, and almost groaning at the incredible warmth. "Oh my God." she said. She was already aching to get in, desperate for a hot bath for a change. "How did you find this?"

"I was scouting the woods, when I noticed the humidity changing rapidly. Like you did." He grinned down at her. He was obviously extremely pleased with his discovery, and she couldn't blame him. This was the answer to their bathing problem. No more ice cold waterfalls and buckets, which would be a disaster come winter. Just nice, hot water. "So I went exploring a bit further than I'd intended. And I stumbled across this."

"Amazing." Clarke murmured, soaking her entire hand. She had to bite back another moan.

Bellamy chuckled. "Go ahead. Get in. Trust me, it's more than worth it."

Clarke rose and faced him. "Turn away then." she said, crossing her arms. No way she was undressing in front of him.

"Come on, Clarke." he teased. "Nothing I haven't seen before."

She slapped his chest hard, and he hissed before bursting out in laughter. "Actually, it's everything you haven't seen before. Just because you've seen other girls, doesn't mean you've seen me. And I'm not in the mood for your games, so shut up and turn away."

Bellamy raised his hands in surrender, and turned his back with a smug grin. "Alright, Princess. But I'm getting in that water as well, so you might wanna rethink your choices."

Clarke simply rolled her eyes as she started to strip. It wasn't that she was shy to show her body. She just didn't want to give him the sheer pleasure of seeing her naked. She'd never hear the end of it. Leaving only her panties on, she slipped into the water, submerging herself completely to wash away all the filth that had piled up since her last waterfall shower. When she re-emerged, she gasped, because Bellamy was right in front of her, submerged to his chest and also very naked (the water was very clear, she could see _everything_). She immediately clasped her arms over her chest, hiding her breasts from his prying eyes. He, on the other hand, was only looking straight into her eyes, his dark eyes twinkling with mischief and laughter.

"For God's sake, Bellamy! There are at least twenty sources here, and you get in with me?" she hissed at him.

He laughed, taking a few steps back and leaning against the edge, his elbows resting on the rocks behind him, his chest in full view. "Relax, Princess. I'm not going to do anything." he assured her, before closing his eyes and relaxing into the warmth of the water. Squinting at him, Clarke let herself do the same, her eyes falling shut in the process. It had been such a long time since she'd really been warm. It was amazing, and she let out a long breath. "Unless you want me to."

Her eyes shot open, and she saw him grinning like the fucking Cheshire Cat, his eyes still closed. "Fuck you, you bastard." she spat.

He laughed out loud, his muscles rippling again, and Clarke looked away. "If you want."

"You are insufferable!" she yelled angrily, resisting the urge to stand up and leave (it would probably shock him, if she just rose and let him see her without barrier, but she didn't want to have this endless fight with him).

In one smooth move, he was right in front of her, crowding her space, overwhelming her senses with his warmth and heady scent. "You like me, Clarke Griffin. And I've let you pretend for long enough that you don't."

She pushed him away hard, but he just bounced right back, his arms coming up to trap her against the rock wall behind her. She had to fight extremely hard not to shiver, look down or look into his eyes. Either one of those actions would cause her to snap, she was certain. "Okay, let's get one thing straight here, because I don't think you understand: you can't 'let' me do anything. Got it? You have absolutely no control over me whatsoever, and you're kidding yourself if you think that you do."

He leaned in, his lips ghosting her cheek as he whispered, "Mmm, maybe. But you've got control over me, Princess. The best kind of control, the kind of control that's driving me crazy right now, because I want to kiss you and touch you and I _can't_ because you won't let me. That's the control you have over me. Now tell me...do I have that kind of control over you?" He raised his head to look at her, his eyes dark with the same primal hunger that was slowly beginning to boil low in her stomach.

Clarke made a split-second, irresponsible decision that she would probably regret later on. She looked up, and that was it. She raised her hand, tangled her fingers in his curly hair and pulled him down, pressing her lips to his in a passionate kiss. He was shocked, his lips only moving with hers because she was so insistent, his arms frozen at his side. For a moment, she feared she'd made a mistake, that he was going to push her away.

But then suddenly, he moved. His large arms came around her, his warm hands resting on her waist and shoulder, his lips coaxing hers open, his tongue slipping in. She moaned, bringing her other arm around his neck, pulling him closer.

She'd been aching to do this for a very long time. The need she felt for him had overwhelmed her completely now, and all she could think about was his hard body pressed against hers, his warm lips gently, but passionately, taking control of the kiss, his fingers digging in her skin...

Then he suddenly turned, taking her with him, so that he was leaning against the rock wall, and she was hanging on to his neck. His hands moved downwards to her knees, yanking her legs up and around his waist. His tongue was still completely devouring hers, giving her all the passion she know he possessed and more.

She should stop this. She knew that. Whatever was happening right now, it could destroy the fragile trust and even more fragile friendship they'd set between them. It could risk their leading abilities and she shouldn't put their people at risk like this. The trouble was, at the moment, she didn't give a fuck. She needed this. She needed to feel him, be with him, be _his_, if only for this one time.

"Clarke..." he breathed, pulling away. "I don't know if you want me to talk you down from this, if you expect that from me...but I won't. I'm not that kind of guy. So you need to decide right now."

Clarke nodded, and pulled him back against her. "You think too much." she whispered hoarsely. "I need this. I need you. I want it to be you."

With a groan, he swooped down and captured her lips again, with renewed fervour, his hands coming up to tangle in her hair. "God, Clarke." he moaned. Clarke giggled, while trying to push her panties down her legs. "Here, let me." And suddenly, she was seated on the edge of the rocks, her legs dangling in the water, with him between her legs, pulling her panties down.

She was now fully exposed to him, and for a moment she was insecure. What if he didn't like the way she looked? But then he pulled her back into the water, kissing her like he would never kiss anyone ever again. "Bellamy..." she moaned, and he nodded, understanding her need. He broke away from her, looked straight at her and then lifted her in his arms, making her wrap her legs around him.

"You ready, Princess?" he asked, more gentle than she'd ever thought he could be, and she nodded, stroking his lower lip with her thumb. He surged forward, swooping her up in a kiss and simultaneously thrusting home. She gasped as he filled her, the feeling forcing her to break the kiss, leaning her forehead against his shoulder. His arms tightened around her, his face buried in her hair to muffle his moans, as he thrust deeply into her. "Clarke..." he moaned.

"Shh," Clarke said, placing her fingers on his lips, "Not now. Just...take me."

"As you wish."

When lying in her bed at night, finally alone to fantasize and imagine without having to explain her absent mind, she'd done a whole lot of that. She'd imagined the feel of his skin under her fingertips, the way his lips would conquer hers...those were the best nights down here. When she could be alone to think about that.

She'd imagined that he'd be dominant, rough, as he took what he wanted from her. She'd imagined how he wouldn't stop thrusting until they'd both come apart completely. She'd imagined it to be hot, rough sex without much time or thought for emotions.

Turned out, she'd had it all wrong.

He was so gentle. His hands roamed her body, exploring her body like she was a goddess. His thrusts still reflected his dominance, his need to be in control all the time (this was _Bellamy_, the world would burn if he wasn't in control), but it was so much softer than she'd expected. He went in as deep as possible, making her feel all kinds of things that she'd never felt before. He literally and figuratively touched something inside her that made flares explode behind her eyelids with each thrust. Little moans formed in the back of her throat, forcing themselves out of her mouth, and she pressed her face in the crook of his neck to stifle them.

His hands found their way into her hair, softly tugging the strands to tilt her head back, and then his lips found their way to her neck. He was soft in his exploration, taking his sweet time discover all her sensitive spots, licking and sucking all over until he had her whimpering with want.

Not wanting to be passive in this, only taking and never giving, Clarke went on a little exploration herself. She ran her hands all over his body, trying to figure out what he liked. Soon, she noticed how he hissed and would thrust deeper if she dug her nails into the skin of his shoulder blades, and she tried it again and again, until he dropped his face in her shoulder and moaned against her skin.

"Clarke, you...you..." he murmured.

That was, for Clarke, a cue to really start participating. Fine, so maybe her only experience was that one time with Finn, but she would make damn sure that this would give her a whole lot more. She locked her legs around his waist tightly, and then began to push herself up and down in sync with his up- and downward thrusts. Both gasped, the feeling overwhelming them.

She rode him, hard. There was no romantic way of saying it; she was riding him, and enjoying the heck out of it, too. As she did, an amazingly full feeling began bubbling up low in her stomach, signalling the beginning of her peak. "Bellamy..." Her voice shook heavily with his name, and he nodded, lifting his head and taking her lips again.

"I know." he whispered. One hand slid down her body, making its way to her most sensitive spot. "Come for me, Clarke. Come on, Princess." He buried his face in her neck, gently biting on the spot below her ear, and that was it.

The whole world faded away.

Only him and her remained, tangled together so tightly that she couldn't tell where she ended and he began. The pleasure was overwhelming. Everything was her pleasure. And every little thing made it that much stronger; the little kisses he pressed to her neck, his fingers brushing against her clit, and then her name groaned out when he reached his own peak.

It took them a long time to recover from their extraordinary high, both clinging to each other like they were drowning. One of his hands was in her hair, absently toying with the damp strands, the other, on her hip, gently stroking the skin there. Completely spent, Clarke was dependent on his balance. He dropped, she'd drop. Her head was resting on her shoulder, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck to support herself, and her chest was heaving. She had never been so satisfied before, had never felt that tingly feeling all over her body was entirely new and god damn it, she craved more already; if only she wasn't so tired.

"Jesus, Clarke." he muttered in her ear. He sounded just as satisfied as she was, and he pressed his lips to her neck again.

Clarke giggled, her breath still short, and she turned her head to look up at him. "I know." she said, kissing his neck gently. He groaned and tightened his grip on her, as if he wasn't planning on letting her go anytime soon.

(She was perfectly okay with that.)

"That was...something else entirely." he said, pulling back slightly so he could look at her. His dark eyes were shining with a light she'd never seen before and it was fascinating to see it. He looked so much younger, like the boy he still was (he was 23 for God's sake, which was older than the rest of them but still so incredibly young), and he was so gorgeous like this.

She touched his face gently, running her hand over his cheek and through his hair, feeling the bit of stubble on his cheek, indicating that he hadn't shaven today, and she smiled widely. "I agree. I've never felt something like that before."

His eyes got a bit of a daring light, and he leaned in to nip at the tip of her nose. "Not even with Spacewalker?"

Clarke groaned, rolled her eyes, and pushed off him to create some distance because _God damn him_. "Way to ruin a moment, Blake." she growled.

He laughed, _laughed_, and grabbed her wrist to pull her back against him. She was powerless against it, because she wanted his body heat. "I was just kidding, Clarke, relax. My self esteem doesn't stand or fall with that boy." He buried his face in her neck and began to gently nip at her skin, occasionally biting down, making her gasp and clasp at his back. Wondering what would happen, Clarke ran her nails down his back at the same moment he bit down. He moaned, and first bit down a bit harder, making her moan, too.

He lifted his mouth from her skin to whisper, "I'm going to mark you as mine, Clarke." Shivers ran down her spine, and she gasped involuntarily. She shouldn't let him do that, she'd never hear the end of it from Octavia, but she didn't mind at the moment. All she cared about was the amazing sensation of his lips on her neck, his tongue tracing her skin, and she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Bellamy..." she moaned.

He pulled back with a wicked grin, licking his lips as if he planned to devour her (and damn, she'd let him). "You're mine now, Clarke Griffin. Just as I am yours."

Clarke laughed. "Really? Bit fast, don't you think?"

"Maybe." Bellamy shrugged. "But I've wanted you for a long time now. And I'll be damned if I let someone else snatch you away before me." He must've seen the unamused look on her face, because he rushed to correct himself (because really, did he honestly think she'd let _anyone_ snatch her away without her consent?). "No, I didn't mean...I know you won't ever let anyone do that. You're too strong for that. But I want you. I want to be yours. And I very much want you to be mine. But only if you want to be."

Clarke shook her head, suppressing a laugh. Talking with Bellamy was an emotional roller coaster. One moment, he could be cold, determined and commanding. The next he was warm, gentle, nervous as hell and vulnerable. She had him figured out pretty good though, and knew exactly when which emotion would rear its head. She knew exactly when to fight him (when he was in a piss-poor mood, because it was fun) and when to keep a distance (when he was vulnerable, because she knew he didn't like to look vulnerable and honestly, she knew the feeling). But right now, he was vulnerable and warm, and he was not trying to keep his distance so that she wouldn't see.

(On the contrary, his body was pressed flush against hers, they could hardly get any closer.)

"I'll think about it," she said, with a teasing lilt in her voice. Damn it if she wasn't going to toy with him a bit first.

Bellamy chuckled, tightening his arms around her. "I guess, coming from you, that's akin to 'I love you', huh?"

"Is not!" Clarke gasped indignantly, but with a smile on her face. Sparring with him always made her happy for some reason, because it allowed her to release the built up tension from everything resting on her shoulder. Sparring like _this_, however, was another matter entirely. With his naked body pressed firmly against hers, it was more arousing and creating tension than anything else.

Bellamy bit her earlobe before whispering, "Is too, Princess. I'll convince you if I have to."

"Mmm," Clarke hummed as he began to pepper kisses along her jaw, "I'd like to see you try."

"I'd love to, Princess. But alas, we should return to camp, before my lovely little sister sends the calvary after us."

Clarke's happy mood diminished a bit, while her heart clouded again. The real world had seemed so far away this past hour. It had been just her and Bellamy, and the obvious attraction that existed between them. Now they had to get back and she just didn't want to. Groaning, she leaned her head on his chest. "You're right." she admitted with a sigh.

Bellamy leaned down and kissed the top of her head. "Come on, Princess. We can face the world together." Then, without another word, he lifted her out of the water and onto the rocks.

Goosebumps appeared on her skin as she started the shiver, the contrast between the warmth of the water plus his body and the cold air too much to handle. He got out as well, and went to his discarded bag. Heat flushed her face instantly, because _dear God_ he was completely naked and not ashamed of it either. More goose bumps appeared, but this time, they were not from the cold.

"Admit it, I'm irreplaceable." Bellamy said, making her jump. She hadn't seen him move, or heard him come up behind her, and now he was right there. Still naked. The bastard.

But he had wrapped her in something soft (a towel, she noted absently) and she couldn't say a bad thing about him then, because he fucking thought of bringing towels.

She often wondered when Bellamy had become this boy, this vastly interesting, considerate boy. A hell of a long way from 'whatever the hell we want'. "Thank you." she said, giving him a genuine smile. But he didn't stop at just giving her the towel. He wrapped his arms around her from behind, grabbing hold of the towel and slowly starting to dry her off. The skin on her arms practically rippled with shivers, because they'd just had sex and now he was taking care of her, being sweet to her, and she couldn't handle him this way. Deep down she was a hopeless romantic, and he was speaking to that part of her like he'd always known it.

His lips were tracing paths on her neck as he rubbed warmth back into her bones, his fingers sneaking to places they really shouldn't go, not now, his breath warm on her skin.

"Bellamy..." she murmured, leaning her head back against his shoulder.

"I know." he whispered, nipping at that spot below her ear. "But we have to get back."

The spell broke around them, making them get into motion to get dressed. No matter how passionately she didn't want to get back, she knew they had to. If it grew dark before they returned, they'd be fucked. After dressing, they began their hike back to the dropship. They didn't speak, but their fingers tangled together like it was the most normal thing in the world. It made her feel strong, if she was completely honest with herself.

An unspoken agreement went out between the two of them, that none of the others needed to know. This was just between them for now, and it didn't concern the others for now. When Octavia opened the gate for them, Bellamy turned to her. "Meet me in my tent later."

A curt nod, and then they were separated by a screaming Octavia and an overly worried Finn. But that was okay, because later that evening, she was wrapped in his warm arms, snuggled beneath two layers of animal skin, his fingers tracing patterns into her skin. That made everything okay.

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_**Reviews feed my muse, and my muse is a hungry lass. If you could take a moment, it'd make my day!**_


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